


Baby, You're Sick

by madalaena



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bargaining, Embarrassment, First Time Bottoming, Gay Panic, M/M, Mismatched expectations, Regret, Rimming, Romantic Friendship, Unresolved Internal Conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 17:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20313628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madalaena/pseuds/madalaena
Summary: Dylan swallows. His saliva feels tacky. “I’m not into that shit.”Alex laughs. Dylan can feel his breath skate across the plane of his back. “You’re into it with me. You eat me out all the time. You probably eat Marns’ ass and call it a pussy.” Alex’s fingers slip beneath the waist of Dylan’s trunks. “You can fuck me tonight if you let me do this.”





	Baby, You're Sick

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I had the kind of brain that could come up with Alex/Dylan BFFs & lovers built around an underlying Mitch/Dylan pseudo-sadomasochistic on-again/off-again thing, but [reserve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reserve/pseuds/reserve) deserves the entirety of the credit. This wouldn't exist without her amazing Dylan centered fics or the many hours we spent discussing him. I <3 u bb. 
> 
> Secondary credit goes to B & L who threatened me to finish this every day for a week and called it "being supportive friends". Idk what I'd do without u guys :|

** _Summer 2018_ **

August in Tucson is hot enough to make a guy lose it. Dylan's belly down on the jute rug on his patio, letting an ice cube melt on his neck while the ceiling fan rotates ineffectually overhead and Alex does laps in the pool next to him. 

Dylan should be doing laps, but - god. He wants to lay here. The rug is scratchy against his bare stomach and chest and not very good for relaxing, but it makes Dylan wonder if Mitch would bleed from the friction if he shoved him face down and fucked his ass right here. How it'd feel scraping against his cock. If he'd stay soft because it hurt so bad, but come anyway. God, Dylan fucking loves when he does that. 

Fuck. He doesn't need to get caught up in a Mitch spiral. Mitch is going to be here in a week, that sweet spot after Alex leaves and before Dylan's girlfriend gets back, and he can try it out then. Mitch will let him. Dylan’s gonna text him later and make sure. 

“What are you thinking about?” Alex asks, startling Dylan. He didn’t even hear him get out of the pool. Dylan strains his neck to look up, squinting into the sun. 

“Fucking Mitch on this rug,” he says. 

Alex snorts. He knocks his foot into Dylan’s shoulder and a shower of water droplets falls on his back. “Be serious, Dyl,” he says. 

“I am being serious.” Dylan props himself up on his elbows. It’s bright enough that he flips his shades down from the top of his head. “Maybe I could fuck you on it instead.” 

It’s a longshot. Alex studies the rug, running his toes across it carefully. “Nah,” he decides eventually. Dylan deflates a little, but that’s, like. It’s fine. Alex said Dylan needs to be nicer to him, so it's fine. Ugh. 

“This shit’s rough, man,” Alex says. He drops down into a crouch next to Dylan and spreads his hand out along the ground. The tip of his pinky brushes Dylan’s side. “You’ll fuck up his knees if you do it out here.” 

Dylan just laughs, because he doesn’t know how to say  _ he’d like that, but he’s gonna be on his stomach anyway _ . Alex lets him get weird, but not Mitch-weird. 

“We could go inside and fuck,” Dylan says, shivering a little when Alex runs his fingers up the length of his spine. 

“You and Mitch?” 

Dylan rolls his eyes. “You and me.” 

“Nah,” Alex says again. His fingers sweep up and down. “I’m not feeling like getting fucked right now.” 

“God,” Dylan moans, folding his arms back down onto the floor. It’s whiny as hell and such a little bitch move, but Dylan’s dick is pretty chubbed up after rubbing against his damp swim trunks and this rug for the past half-hour. It would feel so good to get in Alex’s tight ass and fuck. Alex can’t take a dick like Mitch can; it’s a lot of work getting him open. Sometimes that’s the best part. 

“You’re being rude, Dylan,” Alex says mildly. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby. I just wanna come,” Dylan says. His face is still buried in the cradle of his arms, bright red with embarrassment and arousal, so he jumps when both of Alex’s hands grip his waist, squeezing lightly, before sliding down to his hips. 

“You don’t have to fuck me to come.” 

“It’s so much better that way, baby,” Dylan says. Alex has a girlfriend; he knows there’s not a bad way to get your dick wet, but fucking is the real, real deal. Even fucking his own girlfriend missionary in their bed makes Dylan's stomach twist. He curls up on himself a little thinking about it. 

Alex hums. “Maybe tonight,” he says eventually. “I want something else now.” 

“Anything,” Dylan says. When he tries to roll onto his back, Alex stops him, keeping him face-first on the rug. “Dude, what -,” 

Alex grabs his hips and squeezes hard enough to leave a bruise. It makes Dylan moan a little. “Stay,” he says. “Just stay where I put you, Dyl. I wanna pull your shorts down and eat you out.” 

Dylan doesn't recognize the noise that comes out of him. His body reacts helplessly, ass rocking up and out, then trying to fold back in when he has a moment to think about it. That is just - fuck that, they don’t do that, Dylan doesn’t do that. Dylan’s doesn’t - he’s not - 

“Stop thinking so much, man,” Alex says, skimming his lips along the dimple of Dylan’s lower back. “It feels really good. Your ass looks so good in these swim trunks, I've been thinking about this all afternoon.” 

Dylan swallows. His saliva feels tacky. “I’m not into that shit.” 

Alex laughs. Dylan can feel his breath skate across the plane of his back. “You’re into it with me. You eat me out all the time. You probably eat Marns’ ass and call it a pussy.” Alex’s fingers slip beneath the waist of Dylan’s trunks. “You can fuck me tonight if you let me do this.” 

“Ugh,” Dylan groans. His face is flaming and his dick is rock hard. He really doesn't want a tongue on his asshole, but it's the only way he's going to be allowed to fuck Alex. “God. I don’t fucking know. I don’t know. Just for a sec, maybe. I’m not gonna come from it.” 

“It’s okay. It’s all about coming with you. There’s more to sex than coming.” He tugs on Dylan’s shorts, then taps his hip. “Hey, lift up.” 

Dylan feels sick. He does it anyway. Ass up, face down. It’s how he likes fucking people. Pussy looks good like this. Mitch looks good like this, especially when his hole’s still gaping after Dylan fucks him for too long. Mitch likes it, too. He gets off on spreading himself open so Dylan can jerk off and look at it and shove the tip of his dick back inside just before he comes. He likes to watch his semen trickle out and coat Mitch’s balls, real nasty shit. People aren’t supposed to see each other like that. 

“It’s just, like - weird, man, y'know?” Dylan says when Alex has his trunks halfway down his thighs. 

“What’s weird?” Alex asks. 

“Like, it's my ass. It's weird.” Dylan insists. He jumps when Alex cups his cheeks, squeezing gently before running his hands down the back of Dylan's thighs. “Do you like getting fucked like this? I feel like I look like a fucking idiot right now.” 

“Are you saying I look like a fucking idiot when you do this to me?” Alex digs his nails into Dylan's hip. Dylan tries to protest but Alex cuts him off. “Relax, I'm messing with you. I don't know, it's fine. I don't like getting fucked that much. I like it on my back, I guess.”

Dylan hums. “Yeah you like kissing.” 

“Mmm. Hey. Take a deep breath.” 

Before Dylan can ask why, Alex spreads him open. Dylan knows what’s coming - Alex’s tongue is warm and wet when it pushes against his hole, and it's the most foreign sensation Dylan’s ever felt. Just - it's  _ weird _ ; it's Alex's tongue and it feels good, but no one's ever touched him here before. Something zings up his spine when Alex stiffens his tongue and circles it around his rim. 

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Dylan cries, pushing into it. Like he's trying to ride Alex's face or something. Alex steadies him with hands on his hips. 

“Damn, Stromer.” Alex sounds a little breathless. Maybe if Dylan turned around, Alex's face would be red and covered in spit, but he can't lift his head from the crook of his elbow. Alex runs a finger between Dylan's cheeks, nail catching against his hole. 

“Fuck,” Dylan says. “Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ .”

“Oh, you really want it,” Alex says. In awe, maybe. Like he's fucking pleased that Dylan is face down and panting for it. It's so sick. 

“I don't -,” Dylan starts, but he does want it. He wants it so much he can't even lie to Alex about not wanting it. 

Alex kisses just above his hole, open-mouthed. A tender, thin-skinned spot that feels alight with sensation. The intimacy makes tears spring to Dylan's eyes. 

“It's okay, Dyl,” Alex whispers into his skin. 

It's not okay, but Dylan's in it now. He jerks when Alex's tongue flattens against him, so wet it drips down his balls. It feels like his ass is already trying to open up for Alex when he flexes the point of his tongue inside. The muscles of his rim flutter weakly. It's so stupid, but Dylan tosses a hand behind him, grasping, and Alex seems to know what he needs, grabbing it and squeezing. 

“God, god _ damn _ ,” Dylan whines. He's never seen Alex lose it like this when Dylan's eaten him out. Mitch, for sure, but Mitch loses it all the time over everything. He lost it once when Dylan made him lick his come up from the bathroom floor, so, like. He's not really a good measuring stick. “Baby, please, please, just -,” 

He doesn’t really know what he’s asking for until Alex gives it to him. The blunt pressure of Alex’s fingertip against his hole is a shock, but Dylan opens up easily for it. It feels good, all snug up inside. Alex’s knuckles bump against his ass. 

“Dyl,” Alex says. “Take a deep breath, okay? Do it for real this time.” 

Dylan does. He’s still not ready for it when Alex curls his finger into his prostate. Dylan doesn't even try to stop himself from crying out. It's so much pleasure at once that Dylan almost feels nauseous. 

He can't stop picturing how he looks - back arched and his legs spread as wide as his shorts will allow, caught down around his knees. Dylan untangles his fingers from Alex’s and reaches back to hold his ass cheek open just a little more. The air feels cool against the spit drying on Dylan’s skin. 

“Oh holy shit, holy fuck, is this the first time anyone's touched you here?” Alex asks. “Goddamn, Dyl. You’re loving this, aren’t you? You think you can take two?”

Dylan lets out a dry sob. “Three, I can do - I can do three.”

Alex inhales, sharp. “Goddamn,” he says again. He doesn't argue with Dylan, thank God. It's bad enough taking it like a bitch; he couldn't handle being a bitch and a pussy. 

Three of Alex's broad fingers feel like a lot; he's not a big guy but he has wide, thick hands that feel even bigger right now. The stretch feels consuming and for a few moments Dylan thinks he's going to have to ask Alex to stop. Instead, he focuses on Alex's hand digging into his hip and the gentle shushing noises he's making that Dylan eventually realizes are in response to the whines coming from his mouth. It's a mind-fuck to think of all the times he's done this to Mitch with no prep and spit for lube. His favorite thing is to keep Mitch tight until he puts his dick in him. No fingers; just his hole opening up for the head of Dylan's cock. 

He's starting to understand why Mitch cries so much during sex. Getting fucked is a lot different than fucking someone. 

Something wet hits his rim and he realizes suddenly that it's Alex's spit. It smears around his hole as Alex pushes his fingers in and out, easing the way a little so it’s a nice smooth slide. 

“Shit. Shit,  _ fuck _ ,” Dylan whines. It’s so filthy. Dylan should hate it. Instead, he melts around Alex’s fingers as they push the rest of the way inside. He feels completely caught like this, pinned between Alex’s hand and the deck floor. It’s so hot out that each breath Dylan draws feels like it’s burning his lungs. 

“I really wish you could see how good you look like this,” Alex says. “I’d fuck you right now if we had lube. You’d like it so much, Dyl. I know you would, you’d like it so much.” 

“Oh,  _ god _ . Alex, I'm gonna -  _ fuck _ .” Dylan reaches for his dick but Alex beats him, cupping the head in his palm. It jerks, balls tightening as he comes. 

The culmination of so much intense pleasure almost feels like an afterthought. Each time Alex presses on his prostate, another spurt shoots out and Alex catches it. It smears messily on the head of Dylan’s dick before Alex pulls away and wipes it on the rug. Dylan feels like he should be mad about that, but he can’t even catch his breath.

"God, babe, you gotta relax," Alex says, sounding choked. Dylan shivers when he caresses his hip with his damp palm, tacky with remnants of his come. "Your ass is gonna break my fingers."

Dylan lets out a shaky exhale. His insides still feel all clenched up. “Just don’t, like,” he starts. “Just -.” 

“You okay?” Alex asks. 

Dylan breathes again. He doesn’t know how to ask Alex to keep his fingers inside him now that he already came, so he says, “Yeah. Yeah, shit. Sorry.” 

He sighs when Alex pulls his fingers out. His hole feels like it’s still wide open and he's suddenly in the same mindset as when they started this: like he looks stupid as fuck on his shoulders and knees, vulnerable and unattractively splayed. Like any second Alex might start laughing at him. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah,” Dylan says. “You just really took it out of me, I guess.” 

Alex laughs. “More like really put it in you.” 

Dylan groans. “You should be embarrassed about that. That was so bad.” 

Alex’s answering laughter is so easy and careless. He doesn’t mask his emotions very well and doesn’t try to, so if he sounds that way it’s because he feels that way. It’s just weird that Dylan feels like he’s been laid bare in front of Alex and Alex is cracking bad jokes like he’s not still hard in his swim trunks, one hand wet with Dylan’s come and the other with his own spit from fingering Dylan’s ass open. 

Alex and Dylan have had all kinds of sex, moments tangled in years of closeness and friendship, and he loves that; Dylan thinks they've been good at being the right thing for each other at the right time.

But this is weird - feeling like a moment meant more to him than the person he shared it with. Dylan’s not used to that. 

“Aw, whatever, man. You’re into it,” Alex says. He squeezes Dylan’s hip before pulling his hand away. Their last point of contact. “Hey, you cool if I jerk off on you?” 

“Go for it,” Dylan says. “Wait, actually. Can I roll over?”

“You don’t have to ask, Dyl.”

“Oh,” Dylan says. His ears ring weirdly. “Oh no, yeah, I mean. Okay, I’m gonna -.” He cuts himself off and flops onto his back, reaching down to tug his shorts the rest of the way down and off. Alex is kneeling next to him, dick hanging out over the waist of his shorts. Dylan looks down his body and his own dick is soft and messy with drying come. 

Alex inhales sharply. “Were you crying?” 

“What?” Dylan asks. 

“You have tears in your eyes,” Alex says. His hand is still on his dick, but he’s just holding it, gentle. “What’s wrong, baby?” 

Dylan wipes his face. “Nah, it’s fine, chill out,” he says. “It’s just cause I came so hard. C’mon, Mitch cries all the time when I fuck him really good. I think it’s normal.” 

“Ugh,” Alex says. “Nothing Mitch does is normal.” 

“I’ll tell him you said that.” Dylan nudges him with his knee. “Weren’t you gonna jerk off or something?” 

Alex shifts his hand over his dick a few times, but he tucks it back into his shorts after a moment. It’s still hard, tenting the front. 

“I kinda want to wait. I was thinking I could fuck you later.” He bites his lip. “You just liked that so much. It’s even better on a bed with lube, I swear.” 

Dylan tries to swallow, but his throat is too dry. He lets himself catch the thought for a moment, belly down on a bed and Alex above him and inside him, but he has to stop before he pictures it with too much clarity. 

“That’s not what Mitch says,” he finally says to Alex to keep the silence from stretching on too long. 

“Fuck Mitch. Mitch also likes getting slapped in the face. I don’t give a fuck what Mitch says." Alex laughs and stands up. “I’m gonna fuck you on a bed with lube and you’re gonna like it. Next week you and Mitch can get into whatever nasty shit you want."

"You're too sweet to me," Dylan says. His stomach flips when Alex smiles.

"Hey, I’m going to grab a water bottle, you need anything?” 

Dylan shakes his head. "Nah, nothing," he says. "I'm all good." 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, Alex & Dylan. You'll be more on the same page in the future. Right now Dylan is too upset that his prostate is so powerful.
> 
> Don't ask me why Dylan lives in a condo with private pool access in Tucson in July 2018 because   
1\. I needed him to  
2\. This is a fic about eating ass
> 
> If u r a big fan of hockey and shitposting please feel free to follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/rmadalaena) or [tumblr](https://madalaena.tumblr.com) but be warned that I'm 90% Leafs.


End file.
